Drowning
by TheBlackShadow1210
Summary: War isn't anything to be happy about. War requires victims. Anakin Skywalker discovers what it feels like to lose when his first assignment during the Clone Wars ends up in a failure. Scars and guilt don't leave him alone, and he soon falls victim to something more than only sorrow.
1. What's The Matter With Me

**_Hello there! :)_**

 ** _I'm so happy to publish this story! However, believe me or not I have had many doubts about this one._**

 ** _It's not a very happy story, remember, never do drugs, they are not the way to solve any problems, and you are not alone when you have such a problem. There is always someone who is able to help._**

 ** _That story is kind of a psychological project. I wanted to show that drugs can lead to disastrous effects although they might seem to be helpful at first. They never are._**

 ** _Now, some information. Anakin is 19, the war began but he still is a Padawan. There are no mentions of his relationship with Padmé. The story is also available on AO3 if some of you find that site to be better. :)_**

 _ **TRIGGER** **WARNINGS**_

 _Drug abuse. Very bad feelings._

 _If somehow that offends you, I highly recommend to leave. :)_

 _I will put a trigger in every chapter, because I don't want any spoilers at the very beginning (and triggers change in every chapter)._

 _Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me._

 ** _~~~ Chapter 1 ~~~_**

He laid his head on the pillow in his dark room, thinking about everything what had happened. Images of dead people and killed clones ran through his head anxiously, leaving only tears and screams in his mind.

He sees fire, hears shots and cries of pain.

Then, in one second, everyone lies dead. And he is watching. Guilty for everything, blamed for his mistakes.

He shifted in the bed, rested on his left side. With a grimace of pain, he buried his face in the white pillow, trying to hold the sob off, trying to keep it inside.

Not a month since the Clone Wars began, and he has _already_ failed as a Commander.

How can he look at other Jedi?

How can he look at Obi-Wan? Oh, he will be very unhappy. Will he even stand seeing him? He would not like to know his reaction, he would not like to see this disappointment in his face.

He's surely learned of the results of the mission by now. He definitely is angry.

With a heavy sigh, he sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed his tired eyes. It wasn't really late yet.

The sun was slowly hiding behind the horizon but he knew that Obi-Wan would be here soon. He knew he would come to tell him how hopeless he is, what failure he has become. And he will not want to have him as a Padawan any longer. It wouldn't be anything surprising, though.

All these people, the Jedi Council, the clones... they all _relied_ on him. And he failed. He failed, failed, _failed_! What kind of Jedi is he?

He sighed again and looked at the door. Should he be waiting here until his Master comes and throws him out?

No. No he will not survive this.

He will go find distraction, yes. He should do something to forget about the pain and feeling of hopelessness.

And he won't have to meet Obi-Wan now.

Or maybe his Master wouldn't come tonight to pay him a visit as he usually does. Maybe this time he is too angry to talk to him or even to see him. Again, nothing strange. He barely could look at himself anyway.

Silently, he left the room, head throbbing with still clear flashbacks of the fight, and headed somewhere where no one shall find him anytime soon.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

He gave the Temple one last glance before leaving. He wondered if other Jedi Padawans and their Masters already know about his failure.

Words spread really quickly within these walls, _especially_ if it comes to the mighty Chosen One. He should not make any mistakes, he should be perfect. That's what everyone expects.

And he is _not_. He has never been. The Council has rights to doubt him, he is nothing more than a loser who led his people to death.

With the same feeling of guilt, taking his hood on, he rushed to the busy streets of Coruscant, diving into the underworld of the city.

He didn't really know what he expected and what he was looking for. He was just walking aimlessly, trying to quiet the voices in his head.

His dark robes weren't very eye-catching, and he really didn't mind it. After all, Coruscant lower levels weren't the best place for a Jedi to be.

All of a sudden, loud music from one of the clubs rang in his ears and something pushed him to enter the busy building. He couldn't explain this, he just headed there, feeling more and more awful.

He shouldn't even _think_ about going inside but... what can possibly happen there? Nothing. He will be on guard all the time.

Perhaps if he takes a few shots, it won't kill him, right? Maybe it will make him forget.

These people were still shouting from pain, the smell of blood was tormenting his nostrils.

And even if he was trying, he could not throw them out of his head.

He walked into the big, crowded club. Colourful lights forced him to squit his eyes until he adjusted to them. The music was even too loud to his liking but still, it did not stop the voices of the victims.

He sat next to the bar, where he could see some hookers and gamblers. Even though no one has paid attention to the young man in the dark robes, he did not dare to take the hood off. He shouldn't be here now. He should be in the Temple.

But there, everything reminded him of the failure. Besides, he wasn't ready to hear from his Master that he is too disappointing to be a Jedi.

He ordered a drink, the bartender didn't even ask him about the age. In fact, he didn't seem to be interested in it.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Why couldn't he?

The liquor was bitter. He automatically wanted to throw it up, probably because he wasn't used to drinking alcohol.

He would love to get drunk to forget, but he also knew he wouldn't hide it very well. Besides, it wouldn't kill his pain. He needed something more than that.

He sighed, trying to swallow the colourful liquid. He wasn't strong enough even to drink alcohol, what was wrong with him?

"Psst..." he suddenly heard a hoarse, quiet whisper and it took him a moment until he realised the voice was talking to him.

He turned around and saw a hooded Zabrak man, much older than him. His robes were black and he was holding something in his hand. A bag of some sort. But he did not ask, hoping that if he doesn't react, the man will simply go away.

Yet, it has not happened.

He was staring at him silently, trying to tell him that his presence wasn't anything he'd like to feel now. The Zabrak didn't get it.

"You look like someone who needs some peace." the man said to him quietly.

He frowned and faced him.

"Yes. And you look like someone who's disturbing it." he snapped, harsher than he intended to. He didn't really want to be rude, but his desire to be left alone won.

The Zabrak chuckled hoarsely, there was something strange in this voice. It actually intrigued him but he kept straight face.

"I am the one who can give it to you." he grinned, showing his a bit yellow, a bit white teeth.

Anakin looked at him, his eyes were a bit red from crying. He should have controlled his emotions better. He should have controlled them at all. He was a Jedi. Or he thought he had been. But none Jedi should taste such failure like he did today.

But... how could he have known it was a trap?

He closed his eyes again, the music gave him a headache. But as the man chuckled again, he opened them and glanced at him, blinking.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." the Zabrak smirked and showed him the baggie Anakin had seen earlier. "This."

The boy looked at it closely, frowning in focus. It contained some little white crystals that appeared to be drugs.

"What's this?" he asked, wanting to make himself sure.

"Something that can help you relax. Trust me, your mind will be as calm as it has never been." the dealer grinned.

Anakin once again glanced at the plastic bag and looked around, thinking. Maybe the Zabrak was right... but still, he shouldn't. He _shouldn't_ , Obi-Wan would be disappointed even more.

On the other hand, though, what his Master doesn't know, won't kill him.

... Right?

"How much?" he asked firmly, trying to swallow the lump which formed in his throat.

"How much do you have?"

Anakin reached for his wallet and showed the man some credits, enough to order another three drinks, in case it is too little to that man.

The Zabrak looked at it closely, what the young Jedi found a bit offending, but he didn't care. Perhaps drugs would help him.

"Good. They are yours." he whispered in satisfaction after a moment.

Then, handed him five bags of the white gears. Anakin gave him money and prayed that no one inappropriate saw that.

"You know where to find me next time." the man yet winked at him and disappeared in the crowd like a fog.

Anakin couldn't see him anymore. He was alone. At last. He could think.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

Obi-Wan simply _needed_ to talk to Anakin. He's just learnt about the mission.

The first mission of Anakin that gave him an opportunity to command. The first mission during the war when he, his Master, couldn't be with him. Also, the first mission whose the results where shocking as never before.

No, of course he wasn't angry with Anakin, he didn't have a reason to. No one is perfect, everyone makes mistakes. The best is to learn from the experience to prevent them from happening in the future.

But Anakin... things aren't so easy with him, he certainly is very upset. He doesn't think like other Jedi, he surely blames himself for everything. He knew him too well not to guess. And he wanted, he had to talk to him.

He headed to the dormitory and Anakin's quiet quarters, hoping to find him there. Where could he be anyway? It was late, and most of the Jedi have already been asleep.

The corridors were empty. Night has fallen quickly, but Coruscant was alight as always. Lights of speeders, clubs, billboards were bright every night, even the Temple wasn't as dark.

When he got to his Padawan's room, he couldn't sense anything. The door opened with a hiss and he entered the grim place without a word.

"Anakin?" he called quietly. He looked around, but there was no one in his sight.

He stepped further but the room was totally empty. Worry took over him, because at that hour, his apprentice is supposed to be here, resting after the rough day, rough mission.

He reached out for him in the Force to see if he's near. He wasn't. He wasn't even in the Temple.

He didn't know if he should wait or return to his quarters. But Anakin wasn't a small boy anymore, if he left the Temple, he must have had reasons. Right?

He is different, much different. He doesn't let go of feelings that simply. He must have gone somewhere peaceful to calm the thoughts down, like he always used to do when he was younger.

Sighing, he left the room, hoping his apprentice was safe and sound.

He will see him at the morning. They do need a talk and the talk they will have. Anakin _must_ know he isn't to be blamed. As young as he is, not used to the war yet, it isn't anything bad that he had failed the task. He will have time to learn. It doesn't make him worse.

If only Obi-Wan had been able to tell him that...

Besides, he should have been with him there, he is his Master. It's his fault. He thought his Padawan was up to the challenge. But commanding an army isn't easy. Not for someone so young and inexperienced.

No, he doesn't doubt him, he never did. But he had to admit, he is only 19. The war can be overwhelming for someone that young, the teenager. The pressure can be too much sometimes. Especially with Anakin's special character.

He also hoped his Padawan would understand it one day as well as he does.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

It was the middle of the night when he returned to the Temple. He hasn't been noticed by anyone, they all should be sleeping now.

He was wondering if Obi-Wan came to him. And if he was furious or just angry.

His room was empty, everything was like he had left it.

He sat on the bed and looked at the bag in his hand. He was afraid. Yes, he really was. Another reason why he isn't good enough to be a Jedi. The Chosen One shouldn't even think about drugs. It isn't the way to escape his problems.

He swallowed thickly. It's all because of the failure, the loss. Of his lack of commanding skills.

If he had been cautious enough, none of this would have happened.

The clones would have been alive. The villagers would have been alive. _He_ would have been alive.

But he was dead. Anakin Skywalker, the one supposed to bring balance to the Force, was dead.

The guilt, sadness, anger, _fear_. These were feelings he couldn't control. They were too strong, just like these voices in his head.

When he reminded himself how those people were shouting, he opened the bag impatiently and emptied it. He looked at the white substance, sighing helplessly.

Has he really fallen that low?

... Apparently.

There was nothing he could do. Just watch as they all die.

He bent over and froze. He shouldn't, for Force's sake, it isn't a good way. But if it's the only one, good or not - it should not matter.

He sighed, thought about death, about the disappointment he certainly caused, about everyone he failed. About Obi-Wan.

He closed his eyes and with a few quick moves, he sniffed it all, feeling slight burning in his nostrils.

He dropped the bag to the floor, kicking it under the bed.

For the first few moments, he felt nothing, just numbness and beating of his heart. Then, tickling in his fingers. And in toes.

He could already tell that his pulse quickened. His senses started to be... different.

Everything spun around for some good seconds and he landed on his back in the bed, watching the ceiling which was now nothing but a big dark blur.

He let out a small gasp when a sudden wave of relief fell upon him.

He chuckled quietly, he did not hear voices. He did not feel the guilt. In fact, he felt nothing. He was numb. His mind was... clouded, and he liked it.

All of a sudden he stopped worrying, he could forget about the reality. Just for a few moments. He would worry later.

He could not tell how long he has been lying like that, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time.

However, when his world again started spinning around, he closed his eyes and let the drug do its job. He remembered no more.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

Obi-Wan awoke with first rays of the sun, feeling light and warmth on his bearded face. He slept quite well although he couldn't throw his thoughts about Anakin out of his head. Is he alright? Is he asleep? Has he come back?

He had to find it out. Yet, from the experience he could tell that going so early wouldn't be very effective.

If Anakin came back, he was surely still sleeping. And there was no way to drag him out of the bed. He tried not once.

He sat up, rubbed his face and yawned. He wanted to enjoy every moment of peace, when he doesn't have to be on a battlefield.

The war hasn't been lasting long, but he already was tired of the fight and surrounding him death of poor, innocent people. They have already lost many Jedi and troopers, while Separatists grow in strength every new day.

He got dressed in his casual Jedi clothes and left the room to go for a small walk. He headed straight to the Room Of Thousand Fountains. The beauty of this place has always been able to calm him down. Maybe this time won't be different.

He got there and met Master Fisto with his Padawan - Nahdar Vebb.

The Mon Calamari bowed as he saw him.

He answered with the same. Then, he greeted Master Fisto, that has been his good friend for a few years by now.

"Good morning, my friend." he bowed lowly, lightly smiled.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan. What are you doing here?" Kit asked.

"I wish to meditate a little. I need to clear my mind."

"And where's your apprentice?"

"I do hope he's sleeping in his quarters. After the battle, he had needed some rest." he stated firmly and looked at the Nautolan Master.

Fisto glanced at his apprentice and smiled at him slightly. Nahdar blinked.

"Padawan, can you go meditate? I'll join you in a minute." he said with certainty, yet gently.

"Yes, Master." the apprentice answered with a slight, respectful nod.

Obi-Wan wondered what would it be like if Anakin went meditate that obediently. But he knew he is probably never going to see that.

Kit placed a hand on his shoulder and they both walked away from the Padawan silently.

"Have you talked to him?" asked the Jedi Master.

"No." sadly, he shook his head and looked down. "In fact, I haven't even seen him yet."

"Really?"

"Yes. He wasn't in his room when I wanted to talk about it. I believe he just went somewhere to relax. But... I hope he won't do anything foolish."

"Why would he? He is a bright boy, isn't he?" Master Fisto smiled and they stopped for a moment. Obi-Wan smiled at the thought of Anakin's intelligence.

"Of course he is, I have never doubted that. It's just... I'm worried about him. He-- I'm not sure if he is able to get over such a loss that quickly."

He watched Fisto's face, and a nod followed by a sigh.

"Indeed. Many good troopers were buried on this battlefield."

"This war requires victims, unfortunately."

Kit nodded in agreement, without a word. He didn't like the way it gets either. There's still too little Jedi to win. Even with the help of the clones, their chances weren't too huge.

"All we have to do, is to hope it will end soon."

Now, it was his turn to nod.

They talked yet for a few moments. He almost forgot that he had come here to meditate. But he can't focus.

He just wishes Anakin was here.

He didn't know if he should check on him right now or wait a little longer.

But what good will come if he waits? Probably none. And Anakin needs this talk as much.

"With my respect, Master, I would like to go see my apprentice now." he bowed lowly and smiled. "I don't want to wait too long with that."

"Of course, Obi-Wan. Go talk to him. And remember about the sparring session today. Master Windu will be awaiting you."

"Yes, Master." he bowed again, so did Kit.

Saying one last goodbye to Master Fisto, he rushed to the dormitory, hoping to find his young apprentice there.

 ** _T.B.C_**


	2. I'm Caught In The Middle

**_Hello there!_**

 ** _Welcome to the newest chapter lol._**

 ** _I don't really have much to say. Maybe except for the fact that there is a mention of the Jedi Quest Book, but you don't really have to read it :)_**

 ** _Just read an enjoy!_**

 _Warnings!_

 _Very bad feelings, mild language, and of course drug use._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

 ** _~~~ Chapter 2 ~~~_**

When consciousness finally came back to him, all he could feel was a huge, pounding headache and the nausea. He felt as if he had no sleep at all for a week or even more.

He grimaced as the pounding transformed into merciless throbbing.

When he opened his eyes with difficulties, he noticed it has already been a day. He didn't remember much from the night but he did know he needed to hide the drugs. They are his only way. Even if he becomes more pathetic due to them, at least he doesn't feel pain. For some period of time because now, his whole body hurt so much.

His throbbing head was killing him. But one can ask how is it possible to kill already dead person? He didn't know the answer but for now, he really did know he needed to vomit.

Yet, he had no much strength left. And when he was about to lift his weak body up, someone knocked and the doors opened with a familiar hiss.

"Anakin? Are you here?" he heard a voice of his Master. Brilliant.

He shook his head and immediately regretted doing that, for his head nearly exploded from the sudden pain. He felt as if there was someone inside his head, hammering loudly without any break.

Obi-Wan came here to tell him what failure he is, that he cannot train him anymore. No. No, no, he cannot kick him out! Where will he go? His Mother... she's dead, he had failed her, let her die. Why the hell is he disappointment to everyone he cares about?

The steps were closer. He knew Obi-Wan will be here in a minute, and will see only the wreck of the Padawan Anakin used to be.

Maybe he was being childish, but he closed his eyes, pretending that the room was empty.

He wasn't ready to meet his Master, he wasn't ready to lose everything he'd worked on.

But... hasn't he lost it yet? He was nothing.

"Anakin, are you sleeping?" asked the voice, a bit muffled. It was closer and closer but he wasn't brave enough to open his eyes and answer.

The footsteps stopped and he felt a shadow upon him. He has remained steady and numb.

"I know you aren't, Anakin. You won't fool me." said the quiet voice. And here it goes...

He can just say a word, and he will pack his things, disappear from his life forever, the sooner the better, right? Perhaps he should leave before more damage is done because of his mistakes.

With a silent, a little nervous sigh, he opened his blue eyes, trying not to let the tears form. He didn't look at Obi-Wan, he only stared at the covers of his bed.

He wanted to say he is sorry. He truly is. But he cannot, his voice, the words he wants to say just get stuck in his throat, drowning deeper in the darkness and fear living within his mind.

The silence, eerie silence, was for him like torture. Why hasn't Obi-Wan said anything so far? Does he enjoy tormenting him?

"Anakin..." he finally whispered and sat on the bed, sighing heavily. Was he disappointed? Angry, maybe? Or both...

The drug seemed not to leave him utterly, for he just saw Obi-Wan's... smile?

Is he happy that he won't have a burden of the impatient reckless apprentice?

"Padawan." again he said in gentle, but firm, tone. "Sit up." he ordered and the teenager silently sighed.

Anakin wanted to, but his head was merciless. With a moan, which wasn't supposed to leave his mouth, he clenched his fists and slowly, lazily lifted his body up.

In the moment his body was straightened, he felt as if his world spun around violently and he moaned again, hoping Obi-Wan didn't hear that.

He squeezed his eyes for a second to let the awareness return to him.

"Are you alright?" he heard his Master's voice. He only nodded in response, regretting it straight away when his head throbbed again. His lungs felt like on fire.

He didn't find strength (or maybe courage?) to look at the Knight sitting next to him, now with concern painted on his bearded face.

"Anakin, look at me." he spoke once more.

Why is he doing this to him? He cannot look, he cannot bear the guilt. Oh, he _needed_ more drugs.

When he did not respond, he felt a hand on his chin that lifted his head, making him look at the man who used to be a father to him. But none father would be proud of the son who turns out to be a major disappointment.

He opened his eyes, they were a little shiny from the tears he still has been trying to stop.

"Master..." he finally managed to say. His voice was quiet, weak. Obi-Wan barely heard him.

"You look pale, has something happened?" he asked suddenly, his handsome features showed a bit of worry.

Yes, yes it has! He wanted to shout out that Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, is nothing but a wreck! He wanted to scream at everyone to make them understand what he'd done to those innocent people.

But on the second thought, they surely knew that and were also happy. The Chosen One finally made a mistake, cheer everyone! Anakin Skywalker isn't perfect as everyone expects him to be!

"I-I'm fine." he replied after silence which lasted a little too long. Why did Obi-Wan even ask him?

"Are you sure?" he asked again, peering into his a little scratched from the fight face.

Of course, Obi-Wan knew his apprentice wouldn't tell him anyway. But something about him felt... different, the Force around him was foggy, clouded. He tried to reach out to him, but the boy's shields were impressive and he simply couldn't do this.

"I'm just tired." he barely had strength to speak. He was slurring a bit. And he didn't like the way his voice sounded.

Again, the awkward silence took control over the dark room and he felt all wrong feelings which weren't anything he could get rid of.

"Anakin, you can't save everyone." Obi-Wan suddenly said, referring to the mission. The boy looked at him silently. "Even if you try."

His voice was still as if behind a big wall of his own dizziness and nausea. He couldn't focus on anything in particular. But... was Obi-Wan actually _talking_ to him? Isn't he kicking him out?

"They shouldn't have died, Master." he said quietly, but his voice remained emotionless.

"We all make mistakes, Padawan." the Knight placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I-- Are you angry?" he asked hoarsely and focused his gaze on the floor. He worried that Obi-Wan would notice the drugs under his bed. He certainly needs to find a better place to hide them.

"Angry?" his voice was firm but Anakin couldn't tell if he heard disbelief or disappointment in this tone. The man's eyebrow was furrowed. "I believe you've learnt of your mistakes and such a situation won't happen in the future. Let's just say it was a lesson." he would risk a smile but something still wasn't right.

The Padawan blinked a few times trying to piece together the words his Master spoke.

Right. _A lesson_. What lesson? Tutorial how to destroy the life on the planet? If people died because he had to be taught a lesson, he didn't want such education.

Obi-Wan simply didn't understand. It wouldn't have happened if he had been cautious enough, if he had been a real Jedi.

Now, he can easily tell him to go away, because the Order doesn't need people like him. The Order needs Jedi who can control themselves and who don't bring death to innocent lives.

Why hasn't he told him this so far? Drugs... where are his drugs?

Obi-Wan angry or not, it didn't matter to him at all. Because he still _is_ guilty for death of many people. And guilty he will remain.

"They are in better place now." his Master eventually said.

He hasn't answered to these words. He chose silence. What else is here to say? They're dead. He caused their death.

Obi-Wan, sighing quietly, stood up and turned away from him.

He had no idea how to deal with Anakin Skywalker, this boy wasn't like other Jedi. If only Qui-Gon had been here... he would have known. He _always_ knew everything.

He looked at the window and covering it dark blinds.

"Some sunlight would be good for you." he said. "And remember about the sparring match today. Don't be late again." and he left the room, hating himself for lack of the skills in talking to him.

Anakin was finally left alone with his anxious, tormenting thoughts.

How could he forget about the duels today? Oh, he was totally screwed up now. They will guess what he'd done, and if Obi-Wan hasn't kicked him out so far, Master Windu surely will.

The effects of the drug might have worn off by now but his senses, his mind were unclear, blurred. He couldn't concentrate. Shadows of the fight has still been with him, watching him, torturing every piece of his soul, eating it slowly and painfully.

He, not feeling really strong, slowly got up and immediately his stomach twisted, sending him to his knees. He vomited and sighed heavily.

He really _was_ pathetic.

But he couldn't see any other option. Without a word, without hesitation, he reached for another bag. Why, he couldn't tell, it was just a need, which wasn't really controlled. His hands reached out for drugs automatically.

It's not like he didn't know how it all worked. No, he did know.

After all, once before he had tasted drugs. Jenna Zan Arbor - that stupid bitch who'd showed him what it is like to get rid of the feelings. And he couldn't deny the words of Ferus. He liked it. He liked being worried no more. He liked being at peace, not thinking about anything.

He could only hate himself for doing this.

He sighed, closed his eyes and sniffed everything, hoping it will help.

The first dose is always the worst. The second one is surely better. They won't notice, they can't. They would be impressed by his calmness. Master Windu will finally see he is capable to be a Jedi.

That he should be telling himself. He can be calm, he can be a great Jedi.

Even if it's because of little help.

He hid the rest under the mattress of his bed and with one hand on the stomach, second on the wall, walked out of his room, immediately squeezing his eyes as the sunlight on corridor reminded him of its existence.

He moaned quietly and inhaled, trying to control this spinning. Everything was muffled - his steps, talks. He could hear only strange noises echoing in his ears.

He ignored the fact that two other Padawans were looking at him curiously. He couldn't recognise them right at the moment but he also wouldn't even want to. He just wished to get over the day.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

Obi-Wan has already been waiting for his apprentice. Despite his warning, the boy still _must_ have been late. It wasn't anything new, of course. But he couldn't stop thinking about his behaviour. It was as if he talked to Anakin from other dimension, but certainly _not_ to his dear Padawan.

"Obi-Wan, where is Skywalker?" asked him Mace Windu and he'd bowed lowly before speaking.

"He will be here in a minute, Master." he answered calmly, even gracefully. He would lecture Anakin later.

Master Windu only shook his head slightly in disapproval. Other Master/Padawan teams have already been here. Why is this boy _always_ late?

Obi-Wan didn't know what to say, he didn't want to make up an excuse, for Anakin needed to take responsibility for his actions. There must come a day when he learns it.

When he opened his mouth to say something, the young Jedi came in suddenly, as if nothing ever happened.

"I'm sorry for being late, Master." he slurred a bit and quickly forced himself to bow. His stomach twisted again but he didn't show it. He didn't need more trouble.

"Can we begin now?" asked Mace, clear annoyance in his voice.

Anakin grinned cockily and looked at him. No, he couldn't miss such a chance to step on his toe.

"Why, of course, Master Windu. I am pleased to be the one you ask." his smirk widened.

His body was here, standing firmly on the ground but his mind was somewhere else; somewhere where no one and nothing bothers him.

And the most importantly, the dead people had left him alone for now. It was such a good, _awesome_ feeling.

He didn't have to worry about being the Chosen One, nor about any other pressure.

"Anakin, mind your tongue." scolded Obi-Wan, poking his arm.

The boy looked at him, he hoped the Knight wouldn't notice his wide pupils. If so, he can always blame the exhaustion, right? Does it work that way?

The sunlight was making him nauseous and he would love to switch it off just for a few peaceful moments.

"Alright, everyone, today we're..." Anakin heard the Master's voice, but he couldn't concentrate on it. Besides, it was too boring, everyone knows what a sparring is. Mace doesn't need to remind them every time.

He blinked when his view blurred. He needed to get a grip. So he sighed deeply, trying to regain his clear vision.

It was when he heard Obi-Wan's soft, calm voice.

"Are you alright? You look sick." he stated and the boy faced him.

He wanted to tell him that he didn't need to pretend the concern. Who would be worried about such a failure? They surely let him stay here to have some fun.

"I'm fine, Master." he whispered to him. The words poured out of his mouth like a wave of coldness. Why, he didn't know. It was the drug that was controlling him.

Obi-Wan peered into his face cautiously, his gaze never left his eyes. And Anakin swallowed thickly, fearing that everything has been discovered right now.

But the older Jedi didn't say anything, he did not even nod. Just turned his face to speaking Mace. Anakin followed him but not really aware of that.

The first fight - Master Luminara with her Padawan Barris Offee versus Kit Fisto and Nahdar Vebb.

The match began and he tried to focus on the forms of four Jedi, but their bodies just seemed to be so distant, dancing to some kind of music that was their lightsabers.

He has always admired how the tactics are different from one another. He has always liked the offensive style while his Master preferred patient Soresu (which he didn't really consider an attack form).

Now, although he enjoyed sparrings, he could not focus on any move. The light of blades was blinding him, waking up his headache.

The sound of strikes didn't make him feel any better. He just wanted to be back in his room, where he could cry and grieve for the people that had lost their lives due to his wrong decisions.

... No. There were none dead people, not at the moment. Even his emotions disappeared and he could enjoy his minutes of peace. He smiled at the relief. Just then, a voice brought him back.

Was someone calling his name?

"Anakin." yes, it was Obi-Wan. His firm tone made him look at the Knight. The man's eyes didn't show any emotion. Was it a good or a bad sign?

"Yes, Master?" he asked, trying to sound strong.

"Where have you been through the whole fight?"

Hearing this, Anakin wondered for how long he let himself dive into his world of calmness. He had thought it wasn't _very_ long, but the duels were indeed finished.

"Huh? Oh, I, umm..." he began, trying to think of any good excuse. He found none. Fortunately, Master Windu saved him by the call to fight.

For once, Anakin really wanted to thank the black-skinned Jedi Master.

As they got to the arena, he saw whom he will be sparring with. Siri Tachi and Ferus Olin. Just great.

Not only Anakin felt uncomfortable in Siri's Padawan's presence, but he also _hated_ being next to him. Ferus has always been the perfect apprentice. Always serious and calm. Always the best.

Anakin was certain Olin would do everything to show him he's a better Padawan. It's a wonder why he was not granted the title of the Chosen One. He would be _perfect_ for it.

Moreover, in his actual state, he knew he stood no chance to him, for his legs were giving away minute after minute. His body felt much heavier than it actually should be.

However, even with these problems, he managed to keep straight face and stood there proudly, lightsaber already clutched in hand.

"Remember, don't get yourself distracted." said Obi-Wan as he settled next to him.

Right, a distraction wouldn't be good. But now, Anakin didn't need much to get one.

Ferus and Siri approached them. Anakin blinked a few times as they ignited their lightsabers. His eyes needed to adjust to the bright light of blades.

"Is everyone ready?" asked Mace Windu. They all nodded. "You know the rules. Go on."

 _'This is where the fun begins'_ , Anakin thought and immediately blocked Ferus' strike. It was strong. And Anakin's head was still mercilessly pounding.

He avoided another blow, but didn't find strength to attack. He just stood there, trying not to fall onto his face, blocking Ferus. He had no choice but to resign from his favourite Djem So, to replace it for Soresu.

He hated it. And owing to that, he was not very skilled with this form.

Obi-Wan and Siri, unlike him, seemed to have a brilliant time during the battle. Anakin knew his Master enjoyed Siri's presence. He himself didn't mind her, she has always been nice to him - to such a horrible, impatient Padawan. There were even days when he was jealous that Ferus had her as a Master.

It didn't mean anything, though. He loved Obi-Wan as a father. His Master has never showed him empathy in the same way he did, but the Jedi do not form attachments, it was quite understandable.

Yet now, he was more than sure Obi-Wan would hate him if he discovered the drugs.

He got distracted by his thoughts and Ferus took an advantage of his lack of concentration. He attacked strongly, as never before.

Anakin still had not much strength within his own body and mind. The lightsaber slipped out of his hand and landed a few meters away.

Olin smirked and lowered his weapon.

Anakin heard his Master's voice, his scolding.

"For Force's sake, Anakin! Stay focused!" he ordered, blocking Siri's attack by his always patient Soresu. He was failing Obi-Wan again.

"S-sorry, Master." he whispered and reached out for his weapon. As it was again in his hand, he attacked, ignoring the sudden feeling of nausea.

He blinked, swallowing the exhaustion. When did he get tired?

The strikes were too strong, too swift. He couldn't avoid all of them, not when his world was spinning around. He tried to stand and fight. But the other Padawan was stronger this time.

The weapon again slipped out of his hand and he felt weaker. His legs couldn't take the weight of his body anymore.

Ferus in surprise, and some sort of awe, watched as his opponent had crashed to his knees, breathing rapidly.

"Are you alright?" Olin asked. Defeated apprentice looked at him, a bit pale. But nodded.

He blinked again. Damn it, why is he so hopeless? He cannot even hide his weakness!

And why does he see stars in front of his eyes?

Is it hot here?

"The fight is over." informed suddenly a new voice. This one belonged to Master Windu.

Anakin hasn't even noticed when Obi-Wan finished the battle with Siri. And he also couldn't tell who won.

He stood up, being as natural as possible. Other Padawans were observing his each move. He gritted his jaw. Inside, he was screaming. Shame, frustration and despair had their own fight within him.

He frowned and sighed. A shadow stood behind him. The shadow of Obi-Wan.

How will he excuse himself now? He has lost. He could already hear the news among other Jedi.

' _The Chosen One has failed again.'_ they would say.

 ** _T.B.C_**


	3. I Am Drowning In An Endless Sea

**_Hello there! :)_**

 ** _Some information about the chapter: I do know Siri died while fighting on Geonosis, but I decided she would be a cool addiction to the story :))_**

 ** _Enjoy, and may the Force be with you! ;)_**

 _Warnings:_

 _Very mild language and beginning of slight depression. And drug use, of course._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

 ** _~~~ Chapter 3 ~~~_**

Their battle was over but, to Anakin's disappointment, the day was not. He could hear Mace calling for another team as he left the arena.

He didn't notice Obi-Wan's firm gaze upon himself or... he just didn't want to.

His legs still were weak. The throbbing headache didn't leave him in peace as he would love it to.

They hid in shadows, far from others.

"Anakin, what has happened? Are you sick? What's wrong?" asked the firm, yet soft, voice. Then, a hand touched his shoulder.

He looked at the man standing silently in front of him, he breathed in and out.

"It's n-nothing, Master. I just... felt dizzy. That's all." he weakly whispered, his view still blurred. "Must have... stood up too fast."

"Maybe we should see the medics?"

He felt sick at the thought. In the Halls Of Healing, they would easily guess what he'd taken. There was nothing wrong with him, right? No need to panic. He is alright, he must be.

"No, I'll be fine." he simply said.

"Are you su--"

"I'm sure." the boy cut him off a bit angrily. Can he go back to his room now? It has been too much for today. His quarters were at least safe from all those wrong glares.

Obi-Wan, slightly startled by the sudden outburst, fell silent, wondering what was going on. Then, he simply decided to change the subject. Why, he didn't know. Maybe because it was pointless to force Anakin Skywalker to talk.

"What was that?" he asked. The teenager looked at him silently and blinked. "There wasn't any moment when you were focused enough." he finished.

He licked his lips and exhaled silently. He couldn't avoid this subject now, could he?

Yet, no matter what, Obi-Wan cannot start to suspect anything.

"I'm sorry, Master. It won't happen again." he apologised and looked down. He wasn't a good actor, of that he could be more than sure. But his Master seemed not to care.

They fell apart long time ago, it would appear. Obi-Wan has never utterly understood him, although Anakin still loved him. It's just... what would hurt him if he hugged his apprentice just once?

He wanted to cry and ask for help, because he was fully aware that he slowly loses control of his mind, of his desires.

He wanted to stop before it's too late. He needed Obi-Wan Kenobi as a friend, not only a Master. He needed his love and support.

"I certainly hope so." said the firm voice, taking him back to reality. The painful reality.

Because Obi-Wan would not help. He would not care about him as much as he used to when they were younger.

He would kick him out.

Anakin just nodded silently and was about to ask him if he can go back to his quarters when Siri and Ferus suddenly appeared. On the sight of the other Padawan, he was more sick than he'd been before. Did he come here to make fun of him and his failure?

"Obi-Wan, Anakin, it was a pleasure to have you as opponents." said suddenly Siri, and she approached them quickly. She was smiled.

"The pleasure was all mine, my friend." replied Obi-Wan but Anakin stayed silent. So did Ferus.

And he didn't mind it. He really does hate this guy. Why does it always must be Ferus that is the best? What if Obi-Wan doesn't want him because he isn't as perfect?

"You fought well, Anakin." the other Padawan suddenly said but he ignored him, hoping to return to the dormitory as soon as possible.

Was it too much to ask for?

"I have hoped that you two want to join us for lunch after the sparring." she offered with still kind smile. So it _was_ too much, after all.

And Anakin hearing this, wanted to scream.

Lunch? There was no way he would force himself to eat even one small bite of anything. Unless they want to see him vomit.

So he prayed for his Master to reject the offer. It was highly unlikely though. He knew Obi-Wan wouldn't refuse to spend some time with that woman.

"I'm afraid I can't say 'no', Siri." the Knight, as predicted, said. He smiled and turned to face his apprentice. "What do you think, Anakin?"

If he refused, it would be suspicious. Honestly, _could_ he even say no?

It was pointless but, however, he decided to take a chance. Maybe he would be able to come back to his room, where there aren't any eyes watching him.

People surely talk about his loss. It would be strange if they didn't. He swallowed thickly and looked at Obi-Wan.

"Can't you go alone, Master? I'm tired, I want to take some sleep..." he tried to sound as innocent as he could. The older Jedi just lightly smiled. He couldn't see anger in his eyes, and that was the most important thing.

"I believe a meeting with people, not with parts of droids you have in your room, would be much better for you, Padawan." his Master answered. Was it an order? It _sounded_ like an order.

He knew this tone too well. Obi-Wan, although not very angry, just told him silently not to discuss. And Anakin didn't want to argue today. He really did want nothing but to lie down.

"Yes, Master." he only answered, a bit dully, his head still pounding.

His eyelids were so heavy. Oh, sweet sleep, how much he missed it now.

Hopefully his day among people would end on this lunch.

Just... why does Ferus have to go?

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

The Refectory has been incredibly crowded today and just as he stepped in, he wanted to disappear almost immediately and never show up again. Some eyes upon him were unpleasant, some simply... odd.

But all of them were just shouting at him. It couldn't be his imagination. He couldn't hallucinate. All of them were telling him to go, to run.

He swallowed thickly and glanced at his Master, who has been talking to Siri all the time. There was time Anakin suspected that the two of them were somehow romantically involved. But he brushed the thought off, for Obi-Wan would never break any of the rules, the Code. He was perfect.

Unlike his impatient, reckless Padawan who had many kills on his account. And the war hasn't really started yet.

He has been trying to ignore standing right next to him Ferus, and every time when the other apprentice was saying something, he was just turning away, pretending not to hear him.

This strategy really worked because after a few minutes, Olin just fell silent. At last.

They sat on the bench, the plates full of vegetables in front of them. He didn't even notice when they took any meal.

But as he sighed and put his hands on the table, he saw how terribly they were trembling. He cursed in his head, hoping that no one will pay attention.

"Have you been up to something recently?" asked Siri and he gritted his jaw. As if she didn't know...

"Actually, Siri, we haven't been involved in anything so far. Maybe a few battles but nothing too demanding." said quickly Obi-Wan and Anakin just couldn't help the frustration forming inside him.

His Master was disappointed and he didn't even want to talk about it. His Padawan just failed, that's it. That's what he surely thought.

Of course, it might be childish of him. He didn't really know if he _wants_ to talk about it or not. But if he did, he would talk only to his Master.

If he wasn't that disappointed, of course.

"Really? I envy you now." she smiled and looked at the plate.

"I'm not sure if jealousy is the Jedi way." Obi-Wan grinned. She only pierced him with her, in Anakin's opinion, scary look and grimaced.

"We haven't had a day off since the war began. Tomorrow, we're leaving to Ryloth, droids army makes people there anxious. The Council wants us to check it out." she informed, biting a small piece of her salad.

"There are rumours of the Separatists' tanks in the city, Master." broke in Ferus, his voice as always calm and serious. He doesn't smile, he doesn't feel.

Why the heck Anakin cannot stop feeling, then? Ferus is no better than him.

"I believe they have good reasons to be afraid. Since the Jedi fight for the Republic, we should do anything to help people and win this war." the apprentice finished.

Siri exchanged looks with Obi-Wan and they both smiled.

"Yes, Ferus, I do not doubt that." she simply replied. "However, we're Peace Keepers, not fighters. We shouldn't forget about that."

"Yes, Master." he nodded and looked at his feet. Always obedient, always the best. Anakin couldn't stand it.

"What about you, Anakin?" her calm voice got his attention and he faced her. "You've been silent since we left the Sparring Arena."

He blinked a few times.

"I'm tired." he murmured quietly. There was clear annoyance in his voice. His gaze rested upon his shaky hands. He hated how weak he was.

"I thought you had had enough sleep, Anakin." stated calmly Obi-Wan. They looked at each other.

"I would have, Master, if you hadn't interrupted me." he moaned, not in really gentle tone. He told himself to shut up, to stop being an asshole to his own Master.

Obi-Wan blinked and said nothing more. He just glanced at his plate and sighed silently.

Something flew across their bond. But Anakin couldn't tell what exactly. And he decided not to dwell on that. Besides, even if he did think about it, he couldn't be focused enough. Drugs would make it hard.

The silence, eerie and awkward, has lasted for too long to feel comfortable.

Finally, Siri cleared her throat and spoke.

"Well, thank you two for spending your free time with us." she said and looked at the Knight in front of her. She gave him a slight smile and he nodded.

"As I have said earlier, the pleasure is all mine, Master Tachi." he smiled back and they quietly laughed.

Anakin watched how the two of them bow to each other and he already knew to do the same.

His head almost exploded at the sudden move but he held the moan off, his shields strong enough to prevent his Master from feeling his pain.

As he straightened his body, sudden wave of darkness and dizziness fell on him and he stumbled.

Obi-Wan peered into his face cautiously as two other Jedi walked away. Anakin blinked, trying to regain clear vision.

"Is there something you want to talk about with me, Padawan?" his Master quietly asked, a hint of concern painted on his bearded face.

He swallowed and sighed silently.

Force, yes, he would love to speak to him. He would love to feel protected and safe. But... his own fear that lived within his mind didn't let him do it.

"Uh, can I... can I go back to my quarters now?" he looked at him innocently, swallowing another wave of nausea. He felt worse and worse.

Obi-Wan frowned and once again took a closer look at the boy's face. Instead of answering, he slightly nodded.

Anakin forced his body to bow and without any word, headed to the dormitory. He was aware of indiscreet gazes upon himself. He was aware of the shame that he had given to Obi-Wan.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

Sitting on his bed, he sighed, rubbing his tired face. His headache passed but the pain in his heart still has been fresh and very much awake.

He hid the drugs under the mattress and cursed at his stupidity. He was so hopeless.

His eyes rested upon his once-an-arm, which was now nothing but a shiny golden piece of metal. Tears formed in his eyes as he recalled that awful day, when due to his recklessness, Obi-Wan was almost killed and he himself lost a part of his body.

Healers said that the recovery wouldn't last long, the new prosthetic didn't have pain sensors in it, and it wasn't that hard to use it. Even though, he spent a few weeks on rehabilitation. But he has always had his Master to help him to adjust to the new situation.

And it was all because he had been impatient again. He didn't listen to Obi-Wan when the man had shouted not to do that.

He began to wonder how the heck he still has been the part of this Order.

The answer, however, seemed to be obvious - he was the _Chosen One_. And the Chosen One shall be trained to be a Jedi.

He would never have left his Mother if he had known what would become of him.

After all, he wasn't only this stupid title, he was someone more. Or he used to be. Now, he didn't know himself.

He started thinking about the drug again. How much of it he can take? Is it a daily limit or anything? It _makes_ him feel better.

... At least it was a lie he wanted to tell himself.

Because he wasn't better. He has never been better since he bought it from that Zabrak. It was only illusion. A lie.

He looked at the bed, and his shaking hand reached for another bag. His brain was screaming at him to stop, to find another way. But he couldn't. He wasn't strong enough. He couldn't think straight.

He couldn't ask for help, there was no one who would give it to him. He was on his own with the darkness and coldness. He was lonely.

Trying to calm his mind down, he realised the Force felt... different. It was strong but weak at the same time. It was... as if anxious.

He closed his eyes and touched the baggie with his fingers. He should be able to release all emotions. But they were too strong. Everything was too strong but him.

He sighed heavily and opened it, emptying immediately. He hesitated, he really did. But his lust for the drug won with him. And he knew, he was lost now.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

Obi-Wan one more time found himself in the Room Of Thousand Fountains. He needed to meditate on everything. Something was wrong with his Padawan, something was off.

His Force signature, although still present and bright as it has always been, was different. Foggy wouldn't be a word to describe it. It was more of... blurred, yet clear. Painful, yet calm. Anakin Skywalker felt strange. He felt dead.

And he was worried. He knew his apprentice, he guessed that the boy has still had the recent battle in his mind. It seemed like everyone forgave him, but he himself didn't.

However, he promised to discover what's wrong. He swore to help his apprentice in any problem he had. That was his duty.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the surrounding him Force.

It was when he heard someone calling his name, the voice of a youngling.

He opened them, disturbed. Small, blonde boy was staring at him, with a bright, happy smile.

"Master Kenobi?" he asked a bit shyly, his voice quiet.

"Yes?"

"My friends told me that you defeated a Sith Lord!" he looked up, excited smile spread across his soft light face.

Obi-Wan grinned and lowered his gaze to meet the boy's shiny green eyes. If he had taken money every time a toddler asked him about the Sith, he would have been a millionaire by now.

"It was a long time ago, little one." he replied calmly, still looking into his eyes. He hated this story. He hated recalling himself about Qui-Gon's death. The pyre and his body in flames still haunts him sometimes at night.

"Was it hard?"

"Well, I would lie to you if I said 'no'." he smirked. He remembered that he'd killed in anger, he'd wanted _revenge_. He felt ashamed of touching the Darkside that day. "I defeated the Sith as a young, inexperienced man, if this chance was given to me today, though I hope not, the battle would be much different."

 _'Maybe Qui-Gon would be saved'_ , he added in his head and quickly came back to here and now.

"What doesn't mean to underestimate a foe, little one." he smiled and rubbed the boy's short hair. He reminded Obi-Wan of Anakin. "Every foe, even if not dangerous-looking, should not be underestimated."

"When I am a Padawan, I will be as powerful as you, Master." yes, it reminded of Anakin so much.

That made him think about that teenager who was alone in his room now. Who should not be forced to participate in the war.

"It's good to hear, however, the Jedi should not lust for power, little one. We are to find harmony within ourselves. That's what I think you should focus on. And you'll become a great Jedi." he smiled widely and watched as the toddler's eyes started shining.

"That's good advice, Master Kenobi, thank you." he bowed lowly. "I will focus on it." and he walked away, smile as wide as it had been before the talk.

Obi-Wan felt bad for all the younglings. They are just little kids. Living during the war undoubtedly doesn't help them in their training. They should be having normal childhood.

But Anakin didn't have it either. He had been a slave. It must have affected him. And his own lack of the compassion surely didn't help the boy to adjust to his new life.

Nevertheless, the past is left behind and what is done, is just done. He only wished to find a way, an ability to talk to Anakin like he would like to.

He sat down and closed his eyes, trying to relax, calm his mind down. After all, what is better than meditation?

The area was quiet, the Force strong. He let it embrace him. Easy was releasing the stress and grief, although Anakin has still been somewhere in the back of his head. He needed, he had to get the truth out of him.

Is it the battle loss that made him be that way? Yes, they did talk. But even though Obi-Wan had much to say to him, none of the words he wanted to use actually left his mouth. And it felt bad, it was wrong. Anakin needed him, needed the talk. Why couldn't he provide it?

He should have told him that he's not to be blamed, that he cares about him even if the mission turned into the failure. He will always care. He will always love.

It wasn't the Jedi way - the attachments. They were the hardest thing to get rid of. For him, it was impossible. He tried not once to stop thinking of Anakin as of a son. But he simply couldn't.

This boy stole his heart long time ago. After Qui-Gon's funeral, he started to love him. And his promise to train him wasn't just empty dying wish, it was some sort of his way to say 'I love you'.

He knew he shouldn't have formed this attachment. But he did it. Although he tried to resist warm feelings towards the boy.

However, despite it, he decided not to show him love, it wasn't something a Jedi would do. Maybe it was a mistake, because Anakin has a problem now and he isn't able to help him. His young apprentice doesn't even _want_ to tell him what is the matter.

And it pained him.

It pained him like nothing else.

 ** _T.B.C_**


	4. I Can Feel You Fade Away

**_Hello there! :)_**

 ** _Here's next chapter, but I am warning all of you, it's so dark, filled with triggers so please, as the rating says. :))_**

 _Triggers:_

 _Depression, drug use, self-harm and non-con/rape (though I didn't describe the action much_

 _If that some of you find offending etc, just leave, I don't want to make anyone feel bad._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

 ** _~~~ Chapter 4 ~~~_**

He was so helpless, so pitiful. He just hated everything in himself. His mind was weak, addicted to the feeling of actual _not_ feeling. Why has it all even happened?

He didn't even notice when he started drowning. He guessed it was somewhere between the failed mission and the first dose. But if he had to be honest, he wouldn't even care. Because despite everything, he was addicted.

The word frightened the hell out of him. But it was true. He _was addicted_. While he should never have even got to know what is an addiction.

He hated the way it controlled him. It was as if he couldn't focus on anything but the drug. Even if he doesn't want to take it, even if it doesn't help anymore, he longed for it, his mind was screaming at him. He could not think straight, nothing was clear.

His days were only a distant blur that passed and appeared anew.

And when he, this morning, ran out of the drug, he knew that the only way to feel relieved is to visit that cursed Zabrak.

What would his Mother say? Would she be proud of her son? If she saw him now, would she not be crying in despair and embarrassment? Her only son couldn't live without drugs.

And Obi-Wan, what would _he_ think? He would abandon him, kick him out without hesitation. And he wouldn't even argue, he would deserve it.

He needed to calm his mind down. And although he wouldn't describe 'being drugged' as a state of calmness, he had no other option. Even his miserable body desired it. He was way too weak to resist.

The sun set long ago, but on Coruscant nothing has ever really been dark. Lights of speeders, bilboards, clubs and normal houses were always there, enlightening the neighbourhood.

With his hood already on his head, he made his way to the Outlander Club, where was the last time he saw the Zabrak dealer. And indeed, he still has been there, looking for other victims.

He hated him but needed as no one else.

He wanted to kill him, but couldn't do so.

He desired freedom, but the drug enslaved him.

He swallowed and approached him, his hands shaking and breath shallow. He _needed_ another dose. It was stronger than him.

He sat down right next to the dealer and looked at him. He was aware he must have been looking terrible. In his current state, he would scare off every child on Coruscant. But he knew there was nothing better that would await him. It was his life, he lost the control of it after he'd tried the drugs for the first time.

The Zabrak smirked at his sight and laughed hoarsely. Anakin wanted to vomit hearing this sound.

"I'll buy everything." he whispered, his jaw was shaking. Was it cold here? Or maybe was it the feeling of numbness? He did not know. He knew nothing now.

"See? I told you you wouldn't regret that." the man exclaimed, still slyly smiled.

But he did regret. He did regret everything. Every single action, _coming_ here at the first place.

But it was far too late to get out of this mess. Drugs were now his only way. Even if they stopped making him forget, stopped helping him control himself, they were the way to let him function properly, as the Jedi should. He didn't care about the consequences, he didn't want to.

"Give me everything you have." he repeated in even weaker whisper than earlier, his voice rasp and lips dry. He sniffed and rubbed his tired eyes. He had no sleep for at least three days.

One could be wondering how it is possible to still live. But he didn't know himself. He _was_ dead.

The Zabrak chuckled hoarsely and raised a hand with a bag in it. Anakin quickly reached out for it but the man just took it away.

"Ah-ah, not so fast, boy." the dealer said and Anakin did not like the tone of this voice.

He sighed and tried to forget about his headache. He showed the Zabrak some credits, hoping it would be enough. But it wasn't. Nothing was enough now.

"I want something... more." the man informed firmly. Anakin felt his beating heart, his pulse quickened as the rough hand of the man touched his cheek. "Such a pretty and young boy like you can give me what I desire, right?"

He closed his eyes and whimpered silently. He wasn't going to agree, was he? He couldn't agree.

But it was the need of the drug that has been recently making decisions for him. He exhaled nervously and nodded, desperate to get what he came here for.

He did not know what to do but to obey and take what should be his.

Mind trick would be successful, if not for his miserable state, so he didn't even try.

The Zabrak caressed his cheek in non-gentle manner, if someone asked Anakin, and chuckled. He wanted to jerk away but something stopped him.

The hand, even if rough, had something precious to him. Something he hated and loved at once.

They stood up, his legs wobbling. His body was shivering and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

The dark corner was empty. Even the music wasn't as loud here. The dealer took Anakin's hood off and the boy looked into his eyes. They were scary, there was something he did not like - hunger.

Then, the man grabbed his wrists, Anakin could already feel the bruise forming on his healthy _real_ hand.

The tongue was forced into his mouth, muffling his whimpers. It was disgusting. He squeezed his eyes and tried to find his breath. The hands pinned him to the wall. He wanted to push him away, he wanted to run.

But there was nowhere to go. The tongue was warm but he would like to cut it off. He felt wrong with that, he felt so... used.

He sobbed silently. His heart rang now in his ears, he wasn't even aware of their surroundings.

Then, he was free. He could breathe, he could see, although still through haze and salty tears.

He looked around, still dizzy, hoping to get some help. But he was alone. There was no one who would rescue him from this misery. Not even Obi-Wan.

The Zabrak told him to turn around, he did it without any protest. He heard the belt, the zip and then, the same rough hands on his hips. And his pants were down in one moment.

Coldness embraced every inch of his body, he couldn't prepare for what was about to come. There was no way to achieve peace of mind right now.

Next thing he felt was pain, but he managed not to cry out. Silent tear rolled down his cheek and he clenched his fists, trying to release the agony into the Force. He heard gasps and his own hitching breathing. Only one thought crossed his mind.

It was all for the drug.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

Many days have passed. Obi-Wan could _see_ that something wasn't right. Anakin was much different than a few weeks ago.

He looked like a ghost. His face as white as snow, which contrasted with dark bags under his exhausted eyes. He became thinner and was silent almost all the time. His Force signature was weak, as if Anakin Skywalker was dead. Maybe he truly was, but Obi-Wan still couldn't get anything out of him. Not even a word.

He tried not once or twice to talk to him, to let him know he can help. But _'I'm fine'_ , was all he got as a response.

He wanted to scream at him that he isn't fine, that he is _very_ far from fine.

He wondered when exactly Anakin stopped trusting him. He was so distant, so beyond his reach. Obi-Wan couldn't watch him like that. It was breaking his heart to sharp little pieces.

He walked into his Padawan's room, where the darkness surrounded him immediately and the pain coming from his apprentice almost knocked him down again. It was heavy. It was wrong.

"Anakin?" he called quietly, his voice was barely a whisper.

He found him in the bed, with eyes closed. But he wasn't asleep.

He settled down next to the body. Yes, the body. Because Anakin Skywalker wasn't now himself, he wasn't alive, he was like a plant that only kept on breathing, nothing more.

"Anakin, we do need to talk." he repeated and shook his arm. The boy moaned something in Huttese and Obi-Wan was glad he didn't hear him. He guessed it wasn't a nice word.

"Go away." he slurred.

Obi-Wan sighed helplessly and turned the light on.

"Damn it, Master..." squeezing his eyes even tighter, Anakin turned away, his face hidden in the pillow.

"Language, Anakin." he began firmly but that view broke him. "I think we have something to discuss."

"Just leave me alone." it was only a whisper. But everything, every emotion, the pain, was in this one whisper.

"No, I won't leave you alone, young one." he glanced at the form of his apprentice, still turned away from him. "Could you look at me when I'm talking to you, please?"

Anakin sighed heavily and slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light. It gave him migraine, not normal headache.

However, it wasn't what hurt him the most. He turned into a hooker. The Chosen One, the boy that should bring balance to the Force, was giving his body to everyone, just to get some bags with drugs.

He wasn't pure, he wasn't innocent, he gave it all away. Just for a few baggies.

That Zabrak certainly knew how to run a business. First, he enslaved him, now, he's using him and his young body.

Obi-Wan's heart shattered to pieces when he saw Anakin's eyes, red probably from crying. He still had some tears in them. The teenager sniffed.

"You know you can tell me everything, Anakin." the Knight informed quietly. "You know I will always help you. No matter what." he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

He immediately noticed how his apprentice violently jerked away from the touch.

His shields still has been so strong, unbreakable, he could not sense _anything_ going on Anakin's mind.

"I don't need help." his apprentice moaned, his voice hoarse and quiet. Broken like a string.

"Why are you lying, Padawan? Why are you pretending that you're fine when you're not?"

"I'm not pretending anything, Master. I'm alright, leave me alone." he hissed, however, he wasn't angry with Obi-Wan, he was angry with himself. He felt only disgust.

The way he uses his body created hatred. And guilt.

" _Please_ , leave me alone." now, it was a plea. Desperate plea, to be more precise.

"Anakin..." his voice was very soft, very soothing. He was holding his own tears off. "Why don't you trust me?"

But that question remained unanswered. The boy only sniffed and looked at the wall.

He was running out of the drug again.

He had no control over it. It controlled _him_. He couldn't even remember when was the last time he was fully aware of his surroundings, of anything.

All he could remember was the club, music, and in the Temple also the blurred figure of his Master.

His body ached from the last night. And every other. The Zabrak invited his friends. Shame was all he felt. He had been praying for death until it all finished.

The memories of them, _hurting_ him, humiliating him, pained as nothing else. He wanted to cry at the thought. He didn't want to live like that. He just wanted to be happy. To forget about the reality for a second. Only a second.

"Just... just go, Master." he said, ignoring the question. He heard Obi-Wan's sigh. He heard when he shifted in bed and stood up.

He wanted to cry in his sleeve, to hide into his strong arms. He sought for protection and care. He sought for some love.

He has never missed Obi-Wan's warmth as much as right now. He was ready to listen to his another boring lecture. He was ready to do anything just to make this torture end.

Why couldn't he have peace, love, care? Why couldn't he rely on anybody? _Why no one could get him out of the misery?_

Right, the Jedi should not form attachments. Obi-Wan was perfect and had none. He would not save him, for he would not be able to. Love was a stranger to his Master.

And sometimes, he would love to be like him. But now, after everything, he will never be.

"I'm here for you, Anakin." the man whispered and he could hear the hiss of the door as his Master walked away.

He could cry now, he could break now. He wanted to die. But he has already been dead. Just like the people he killed on the battlefield. Now, he knew he was in no use for the Order.

With a hiss of pain, he got up, his world spun around and he needed to close his eyes for a moment to stay conscious.

He had no idea what to do, he lost his mind many days ago. He was a wreck, a shadow.

He looked around, nausea was slowly taking over. There was a fragment of glass on the floor. He couldn't remember what it was doing here, he could remember nothing at all.

He grabbed it and sobbed. Tears blurred his view, he fell onto his knees and lifted his sleeve up. He has only one hand. The second was just a memory of how hopeless he had been. How he let Dooku hurt his Master and him.

The first drops of blood gave him pain. He watched as the red liquid streamed down his bruised wrist slowly. He whimpered.

He deserved it. He was nothing but a failure. His body should be suffering. Maybe then, he would stop selling it off. Maybe then, it wouldn't be that attractive and that cursed Zabrak would leave him alone.

He closed his eyes. The pain was quick. It wasn't enough.

He looked at the glass.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself quietly, tears making everything blurry.

Looking at the bloodied object, he threw it away and buried his face in his hands.

He cried. He cried again. He has been doing only it. It was all he got - salty tears and pain.

Blood would dry in a minute, he knew the damage wasn't too deep. He was too afraid to push harder.

He just wanted the agony to end. He wanted to be safe, to feel loved.

But who would give a damn about him now? Obi-Wan? When he hears about this, first thing he will do, will be telling the Council about his mistakes that he regrets.

And he will be expelled. With nowhere to go, no one to talk to. He would be left at that Zabrak's mercy.

He reached out for the Force, but it was weak due to the drugs. He had nothing. He was nothing.

 ** _~~~o*o~~~_**

Obi-Wan wanted to resist the thought, deny the suspicions. But he knows Anakin goes somewhere at night and comes back at the morning.

He knows he doesn't sleep properly, he doesn't eat much. He destroys himself. He isn't blind.

Anakin stopped being his well-known, beloved apprentice, he became someone distant. A stranger.

And he couldn't take it, he was his Master. He should have reacted sooner, just when he noticed something was wrong.

His duels always end up the same; on the knees, after a minute. Others aren't blind either.

Siri, Yoda, Mace, even Master Jocasta, they all noticed the change. They would ask. And he would make up an excuse. He would pretend that everything was alright. But he could no more.

It was high time he finished this once and for all. Because nothing was really alright.

He could not wait and see until it ends, until Anakin kills himself.

He had to intervene, he had to do anything to save his apprentice from himself, from the trouble that had found him.

One night, he stayed awake. He did not want to sleep with knowledge that his Padawan might have been in danger. He patiently waited until the boy left. _Again._

And when he did, he slipped into the room, with hope of finding something, anything.

He wanted so badly to prove himself wrong, to think of other reason. But there was no denial here. Yet, he was afraid. He was aware of the situation, but scared to death. He didn't want to know the truth.

 _'It must be due to something else'_ , he used to tell himself, to lie to himself.

But evidence of it was clear. His Padawan was sniffing more often, although he has not been sick since he could remember.

His nose appeared to be burnt in some places, and his eyes... His once full of life, beautiful blue eyes were unfocused but exhaustion was clear in them. His gaze was just dead, as if Anakin Skywalker lost his unique soul.

Obi-Wan wanted to cry at the very thought. He wanted to shout and grieve.

He imagined Anakin's thin frame, lying dead in one of the dark corners of Coruscant lower levels, beaten or even worse, because some criminals wouldn't care about hurting him.

The view, even if imagined, was horrible.

However, he could not think that way. He had to throw the picture out of his head and never ever recall it again.

He was desperate to find something. And he knew where to look.

He checked the bed, the mattress. And he found them. Empty bags, millions of them. Some white crystals on the floor.

And glass, shining in the corner. With red stains on its sharp end.

Something kicked him in the guts. It was this dreadful feeling, the coldness and sorrow.

Why hasn't he seen it? Oh, his poor Anakin. He hoped he hasn't done any serious damage to himself by now. He _prayed_ for that.

He threw the stained glass away, shattering it to pieces. He would clean it up later.

Now, however, he had much more serious problems.

 ** _T.B.C_**


	5. Hold Me, I'm Lonely

**_Hello there!_**

 ** _I'm deeply sorry, I haven't updated in years, I know. School stuff is killing me recently._**

 ** _However, I'm glad to give you the last chapter of this story. Big thank you to everyone who reviewed, your extremely nice words made me so so unbelievably happy, really. :)_**

 ** _Plans for the future: well, I want to write a sequel to this but I don't promise anything._**

 ** _I am writing like three stories now, and the darkest one will probably appear first. If you are interested, please, be on alert. ;)_**

 ** _Once again thank you for the feedback!_**

 ** _MysticalPikachu_** : _(love your nick btw) Thanks so so much for your kind words! That's what makes an author proud of the work! :)_

 _Warnings:_

 _Slight mentions of rape, angst and mentions of self-harm. Nothing worse than in previous chapters, really._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

 ** _~~~ Chapter 5 ~~~_**

Without hesitation, without thinking twice, he ran out of the Temple and made his way towards the lower levels of Coruscant. He hoped to see Anakin there, still alive.

It was hard to follow his Force-signature, for the drugs made it all foggy. That would explain a lot, really. That would explain why he's been so out of reach.

His feet loudly hit the pavement, he hasn't slowed down for a second. His Padawan needed him, he had no time.

Anxious thoughts pierced his mind, giving him shivers as the images of dead Anakin ran across his head.

He reached the Outlander Club after a few minutes, where he sensed a weak, yet still somehow light, presence of his dear, precious apprentice.

He looked around a few times, making himself sure no one would see him. The place was so crowded and it made it very hard to find anyone.

He walked in circles a few minutes until his eyes caught the view of his apprentice.

He saw him in the dark corner, sobbing. In front of him, there was a Zabrak man, pressing the boy's body against the wall behind them.

Something kicked him hardly, or at least it felt like that, because everything in him started to ache at this poor view. He was afraid it would come to this. His Padawan has already been deep into his addiction. Hopefully not _too_ deep.

He wanted to cry. He really did. He couldn't watch how Anakin was killing himself. He couldn't describe his raging feelings.

And when he thought it couldn't be worse, an unwelcome lump formed in his throat as the Zabrak reached out for Anakin's braid.

He caressed his apprentice's cheek and Obi-Wan could sense the boy's distress.

The teenager looked around, tearful, his face grimaced in pain and fear.

Obi-Wan felt a sharp stab in his heart, and wondered if Anakin saw him, but he noted that the boy wasn't in any state to think clearly.

Then, the Force screamed.

It scared the Knight to the bone. He knew what it was.

It was Anakin's desperate cry for help. _Any_ help. He couldn't just stand here and watch it. He would be this help.

He came closer, trying to get through the crowds and dancing beings of every species. The air was very thick here, he could barely breathe among all these people.

All this time, he hasn't stopped looking at his Padawan.

He watched him cry. He watched him try to defend against the Zabrak's touch. But every time he was about to turn around and run away, something stopped him.

It was the plastic bag in the dealer's hand. It was painful to watch. It was agony.

He got close enough to hear them, holding even his breath. He didn't want to act without a plan, no. He had to think.

When the Zabrak grabbed his Padawan's arm, Anakin whimpered in pain, and Obi-Wan couldn't stop the anger forming inside him. This man was hurting his apprentice, his son. He made another step closer.

"Take my money, please. T-take it and don't h-hurt me anymore... please... don't do it..." Anakin tried to push him away but the grip only tightened. The boy gasped. Another tears streamed down his pale cheeks.

"Don't fight me, you'll destroy my mood. We both don't want to get me angry, do we?" he heard the rasp voice somewhere between the protests and sobs of Anakin.

He was standing nearby, trying to think of any plan. For Force's sake, plan! Why couldn't he make anything up?

Can he just go there and take Anakin as far from here as it is possible? He had to be fast, the time was ticking out. Why does no one here react on such abuse?

"P-please, don't... I don't w-want to do it anymore..." this broken plea torn Obi-Wan's heart apart. He had to control himself, to be careful not to ignite his lightsaber.

There is no anger. There is no hate. There is no emotion.

"You're _mine_ , I don't care what you want to or not. You do what _I_ want." the voice hissed, Anakin groaned as the hand grabbed his cheeks roughly, bruising them. Another tears streamed down his face. He squeezed his eyes. Hands touched his belt and the hoarse chuckle rang in his ears. "Now, turn around and stand still."

Nothing. Anakin has not moved. He only sobbed.

"I see you want a punishment. Should I call my friends or will you be obedient? _Prepare_ for me."

"Please..."

"Prepare yourself or I will take you without it!" he grabbed his tunic and shook him. He moaned as the headache got stronger.

He was pressed against the wall even stronger, he could barely breathe. But he still has not moved.

"Fine, then. Your choice."

He didn't manage to blink and the man kissed his neck roughly, Anakin grimaced, desperately trying to get free. The grip on his wrists was too strong and painful.

"N-no..." he sobbed. And this was enough, Obi-Wan decided. He didn't care about the plan, he had to act _now_.

He approached quickly and pushed the man off Anakin, gritting his jaw. His face turned slightly red from anger.

"Hey, what the--" the Zabrak fell onto his knees, obviously not prepared for the sudden attack. He looked at him. "What's your problem, man?"

"I believe this boy clearly said he wasn't interested in you." the Knight informed calmly although he wanted to punch this monster in the face. He would deserve that for hurting his dear apprentice.

"M-Master?" he then heard a quiet whimper. He looked at his crying Padawan, fighting with his own tears. He couldn't stand seeing him like that. Red eyes were exhausted, his body shaking.

"Anakin..." oh, could he just hug him?

All of a sudden, a rasp laughter got his attention. He looked at the dealer, breaking the eye contact with the teenager.

"He's mine, find yourself another one." the Zabrak stood up and gripped his apprentice's wrist. Anakin let out another painful whimper as his older injuries started to bleed.

Obi-Wan gritted his jaw and used the Force to pin the Zabrak to the wall. It wasn't what he should do, but Anakin needed him. He will not fail him this time.

"Leave him alone and disappear from my sight until I'm still calm." he said in threatening tone. He didn't need the Force to sound dangerous.

Startled, the Zabrak cursed but obeyed.

"Fine, take him. He is worthless anyway." he spat, turned away and, still angry, left them alone.

Obi-Wan watched as he was walking away, he made himself sure the man wouldn't come back. Then, he turned to Anakin, now sobbing on his knees, clutching his hair.

He crouched next to him and placed a hand on his back.

"M-Master... I'm s-sorry... Master, please... f-forgive me." he sobbed, his voice still broken and quiet. He was shivering.

Obi-Wan, deeply worried, pulled him into his embrace, not paying attention to the place and time.

"Hush, Anakin. It's alright. I forgive you everything." the Knight soothed and caressed his back as the young man hid his face into Obi-Wan's chest. He wanted to let him feel this warmth which he should have given him long ago.

"I'm sorry. I f-failed you. I--"

"Shh, it's okay. I will help you, alright? We'll get through this. We'll start from the beginning."

"N-no! It's too l-late now!" he tried to jerk away from his embrace, but Obi-Wan only held him tighter.

"It's never too late, Anakin. _Never_." he closed his eyes and fingered his hair softly. He would do anything to make him better. Can they forget about this night? And many others?

"I'm sorry. So sorry."

"I know, young one. I know..." he whispered and kissed his forehead fatherly. He loved him with all his heart. And he wanted to show him this love.

Anakin needs a friend, he needs _him_. He will not give up on him.

"Come on, I'm taking you from here."

"No! Just... just leave me. There is n-nothing else to... to do. I want t-to die. Please, just _let me die_."

These words, Obi-Wan couldn't believe these words. Has Anakin been really that deep in the misery?

"There's no way I will leave you like that. You will be fine." he whispered, wrapping his arms around Anakin even tighter. He will carry him out of here if there's no other option.

He wasn't heavy, he was much lighter than he should be.

He will be carrying him. He can even crawl with him on the back.

He would not lose Anakin to a drug. He would not lose him to anything.

 ** _~~o*o~~_**

Anakin has been crying all the way back to the Temple, shivering, mumbling _'I'm sorry'._ He was wrecked and Obi-Wan felt like it was partially his fault. He should have reacted sooner. Much sooner.

Besides, he couldn't stop thinking of the consequences. He had no idea what to do.

It was obvious that he wouldn't report Anakin, not ever, but what else should he do now? He cannot take him to the medics, they would ask, they would find out about his Padawan's problem. And Anakin would have no choice but to come back there, to this club, to that Zabrak.

Who knows how long he would last like that? He would not stand seeing his dear apprentice in the streets. He was too close to death recently.

Maybe he should take him somewhere far from here? To different planet? But it would be too suspicious. And the war wouldn't help him recover.

Someone, however, has to take a closer look at him. He may have done some damage to himself. Though, he prayed his apprentice would be alright. He prayed there was no damage at all.

The Temple was not empty, but fortunately, they haven't met anyone on their way.

Sobs of Anakin echoed around but no one has checked what was happening.

It would be good if it stayed that way. They were close, just a few steps more...

It shouldn't be hard, he already could see the door.

"Hold on, Padawan, hold on." he whispered, sending comforting pulses through their bond.

His apprentice has been unresponsive for most of the time. But he was awake, he was crying silently, he could hear his shallow breath. How can he help him?

Perhaps Bant could do something more... but as much as he feared for Anakin's health, both - physical and mental, he was afraid that this problem will be discovered.

The fewer people know about it, the safer.

After all, words spread _very_ quickly within the walls of the Temple. That would be toxic for his Padawan. He wanted to protect him, not give more pain.

He decided to think about it later.

He led Anakin to his own room and helped him sit down on the bed. There were a few red stains on his sleeves. Gently, not giving him additional pain, he lifted it up.

His healthy arm was bloodied, however, most of the blood was dried. He could see angry cuts and bruises on his wrists. His hands were bony. He had been as miserable as never before.

Even when he lost his arm, even then, he wasn't that wrecked. He was down, of course, but at least he smiled a few times. Now, however, there was only sorrow in these tearful blue eyes.

He looked for anything that could stop the bleeding. He knew he should check Anakin's other injuries. After all, that Zabrak had used him many times, and remembering the fearful look in the boy's eyes, he could guess that he hadn't been very gentle.

But he didn't want to do anything that would make his Padawan uncomfortable.

He focused on the cuts.

He thought of this glass he'd found in Anakin's quarters. It pained him. Would he be able to... kill himself? Would he? Seeing him at the moment, he had no doubts.

He knew he had to live here and now but... what if he lost him? That would be a strike which could kill him. He barely survived the death of Qui-Gon. And Anakin? He was more than his Padawan. He was his son.

His red from crying eyes begged him for help. He felt Anakin's desperation. Recovery will be demanding and difficult for both of them. But Obi-Wan was ready to do whatever it takes.

He bandaged up his wrist gently and embraced him one more time, sighing. It was good to have him here. And it was certainty that this place, this room, will always be like a sanctuary for him. No matter how old he is. This boy can _always_ come to him, the door will be open anytime.

"Just kill me, Master." he suddenly sobbed quietly. "I don't deserve any better."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened in horror at the unexpected request. He tightened the embrace and shook his head. It can't be happening. His strong, brave Padawan wouldn't give up, wouldn't ever.

"No, Anakin, no! Don't ask me of this. Everything is going to be alright. I will help you. You will get through this. _We_ will. Together."

"I'm disgusting. I-I'm--"

"Shh, young one. You are not. And never will be." the Knight whispered to his ear softly. He wanted to cry as well.

"Are you going to... tell them?" he swallowed thickly, fearfully. He couldn't be expelled! He couldn't! But does he deserve more? He _sold_ his body for a few bags with drugs.

He killed innocent people and clones. He failed as the Chosen One. And as a son. Because his Mother was dead. He was too late. He could have saved her. He _should_ have saved her. He'd _promised_ to free her.

"Anakin." his Master began softly. "Look at me. Please, look at me."

He blinked and obeyed. He had problems with concentration, his mind still wanted the drug.

"You made a mistake. But it doesn't mean that it cannot be fixed. It can. I will show you it can. Just trust me, let me help you."

He did sound quite convincing. But... how can he believe it? There isn't anything that can bring dead people back to life. He wishes there was...

"I fell so low, Master. I'm not the Jedi, I'm not the Chosen One. I'm... I'm nothing."

"Please, don't say that. For me, you'll never be nothing." he whispered and wiped the boy's tears away. He even risked a slight smile.

"You... you aren't angry?" he sniffed. His nose had some nasty burns around it.

"I would never be. Tell me, why would you think so?" he asked gently, looking at him.

Did he smile? Wasn't it a hallucination? Will Obi-Wan help him? Was there hope for him? Was there _still_ hope?

"I-- They died, Master. I haven't been strong enough to save them... they died because of me." he sobbed loudly and closed his eyes. The embrace tightened. "I failed them, I failed the Order, and I failed _you_!"

"Nonsense, Anakin. You didn't fail anyone. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you when you needed me. If I had, none of this would have happened." he caressed his cheek gently and smiled again. "Just don't cry anymore, everything's okay now." he whispered and placed his second hand on his apprentice's back.

"I us-used my body to get th-the drugs, Master. I _am_ a disgusting monster..."

"No, Anakin, no." he firmly shook his head. "I promise that Zabrak will never touch you again."

Anakin's hands clutched his white, a little wet from tears robes. He sobbed but calmed down a bit.

It was a good thing. Very good thing. Obi-Wan smiled at himself and was happy to have his Padawan safe within his arms.

"If I hadn't been that stupid, he would have never had a chance to touch me, Master." his voice cracked.

Then, just then, Obi-Wan realised what really happened. Of course, he knew what the Zabrak did to his Padawan but... it has just occurred to him. That man has... _used_ him, he took him when Anakin wasn't in any state to think clearly.

He pressed his palms to the boy's cheeks, forcing him to look.

"Anakin, listen to me... please, listen. What happened to you, what that Zabrak did to you... it wasn't your fault, alright? It wasn't. He took advantage of your position."

"But... he-- I let him. I-I agreed, Master, I--"

" _Anakin_ , my dear Padawan, it has never been you who let him. It was the drug. The drug you'd taken but you regret that. And it doesn't make you a disgusting monster. Please, remember that."

Anakin was snuggling him, and he didn't push him away. He loved him, he would not survive losing him.

Yet, the boy still has not stopped crying. He was sobbing, mumbling and whimpering quietly.

"I... I understand if you don't want me as y-your Padawan anymore... I deserve it. I deserve all the hate."

The Knight shook his head firmly, not even hesitating. He will do anything to help Anakin. He has been alone for too long.

"Never, young one. I will never abandon you. And I don't hate you. You should stop hating yourself, too." he lifted his chin in a soft manner, smiling at him reassuringly.

"Master..." he whimpered and hid into his chest, feeling safe. He had been an idiot. He should have trusted Obi-Wan sooner. It wouldn't have had to come to this. "What should I do n-now?"

"Anakin... just... just promise me you will never doubt in my commitment to you. That you will trust me as much as I trust you."

"I-I promise, Master. I do..."

"I love you, Anakin. Please, never forget about this." he whispered. He didn't want to let his apprentice go. He just wanted to hold him as if he was this small, little boy from Tatooine.

"I love you, too, Master." he closed his eyes and smiled.

He just let the warmth coming from Obi-Wan claim him for a little longer. He needed it.

He loved him. He truly did. He wanted this moment to last forever. He was safe from the danger, safe from that dealer. Afraid of the future and the consequences of his actions, but safe. Finally.

And he now knew, his Master would never let him drown.

 ** _THE END_**


End file.
